Rolling Red Tide
by DiscoSludge
Summary: Sometimes you just need to take a step back and reevaluate your choices. Sometimes you realize that you're really good at making bad choices. And sometimes you realize that you're destined to save the world.


She watches from a distance, always vigilant, always aware. Her lean, hungry eyes scan the field before landing on a large buck, antlers in the sky. Two hands worked swiftly, one on her bow, the other reaching into her quiver. Nocking an arrow, the girl brings it into her line of sight and watches as the buck chews on some grass. She barely has time to feel bad as she releases the arrow and watches as the majestic creature screeches and dies.

Death is never easy to perpetrate. It it cold but it is honest, and the girl knows nothing but honesty. Her mother would be proud if she wasn't dead. There was that honesty again. Her father wouldn't care, just another meal on the table. One of many needed to stay alive. Her brothers would scarf greedily and her father would scold.

Her ears quivered.

"Rabbit." The spritely elf mutters to herself. She isn't totally sure that it _was _a rabbit, but she is too tired to assume danger. She doesn't really want to assume danger, as it was.

"No," A male's voice responds. "Not a rabbit." She spins around only to be faced with a large Nord with blonde hair. He smiles at her as she fumbles around for her dagger. He was good, quiet and stealthy. Surprising for a Nord and surprising for her as she hadn't expected anyone to be in this area for quite a while.

"You shouldn't sneak about like that," She responds. "You'll get yourself killed." Her stance is defensive but her tone is lazy. If he wanted to kill her, he would have done it already. Yet her hasn't and she is thankful.

"You're quite good at what you do." The Nord replies, ignoring her. He studies her frame for a moment and smiles. She is small and thin which must mean that she is agile. Her face is sharp and all angles and planes, eyes wide. Naturally, her being a wood elf, her skin is a deep, rich honey color whilst her hair falls in red waves at her shoulders. She is pretty for an elf.

"I know." She says as she finally gets a hold of her dagger. Not moving it at all, she watches his hands, careful of his every move.

"I think you have a bright future as a soldier ahead of you." He comments.

"A soldier?" She asks, lowering her hands. That one is new. She had heard many-a-futures set for her. Wife, hunter, whore, chef, fisherman, miner, but never a soldier. Elves like her were rarely recruited as soldiers and if they were they were usually support roles. Arching in the back, healing in the tents.

"Maybe not a soldier," The Nord sits down and pats the ground next to him, a motion for her to sit next to him. She shakes her head and remains standing to which he responds with a lighthearted shrug. "How do you feel about fighting for freedom?"

"I don't care for fighting." She answers, careful with her words.

"What's your name miss?" He asks, avoiding her answer carefully. The Nord runs a hand through his blonde hair and laughs when a leaf ends up on one of his fingers. She watches with confusion.

"Valerie."

"You got a last name, Val?" He asks coining a nickname that Valerie can vaguely remember be called in her childhood.

"I'm not rich enough." Valerie answers. It's not really meant to be funny but both the Nord and the Bosmer get a small chuckle out. His is a hearty, belly-shaking laugh whereas her's is a simple, humorless bark.

"You're quite far from Valenwood," The Nord quips. "What are you doing so close to Skyrim?"

"I'm on a hunting trip. Skyrim has excellent game."

"That so?" They sit in silence for a few moments, the question hanging awkwardly in the air. Valerie has never met a Nord before, but she knows enough about them to be tentative around this one. Maybe she was stereotyping, but it was better to be a little bit rude than to be dead.

"You can call me Ralof," The Nord began. "How would you feel about getting a fair sum to bring back home."

"How fair?" Valerie questioned. She liked to have exact numbers, total sums, sure shots. Questionable content was not good enough for her.

"At least 400 septims." Ralof smiled a wide, businessman smile.

"I don't-"

"You could spend the septims here," Ralof interrupted her worry. "Clothes, food, horses, whatever you need. Or you could get them converted." He smiled. Valerie wasn't sure what he was getting at, but he had a point. She would prefer if he had the money up front.

"Would you pay me now?" She asked, getting straight to the point.

"I have 400 in one hand and the other is ready to shake." Ralof reassured her as he held his hand out. He showed her that, yes indeed, he did have the money up front. She smiled halfheartedly, shook his hand, and watched as he placed the pouch of gold in her left hand.

"Welcome to the Stormcloaks."

* * *

**(a/n): I hadn't expected to be out with this so soon, but here it is. I had some extra time to whip up the first few chapters and I'm really liking this Dragonborn so we'll see where we go from here. Please review! Even if you didn't like it, give me some criticisms! It motivates me to work on more chapters. Thanks for reading. :)**


End file.
